Just a tiny forward for the obligatory I do not own the copyrights to Harry Potter as it belongs to the ever lovely Jk Rowling, I am simply presenting a non profit fanfic of a pairing I love to play around with.
On that note, this is obviously a non-cannon pairing and a bit OC of course for both parties. I will rate it M for future chapters that will likely involve mature topics such as torture and sexual situations but in this chapter none of that happens yet! Thank you so much for stopping by and reading this fic I hope you all like it as much as I enjoy writing it. Look forward to more chapters being posted this weekend I have two more already written. Blessed be~
Chapter One: If You Were Mine We Would Know
His hair was hopelessly tangled and unkempt but yet wisps still managed to blow against his face in the open night air. Beneath the glow of hyacinth light his smile was broad but turned into a snarl just at the very ends as he pushed angrily at the hair tickling his nose and lashing his eyes. The task at hand would not wait and he knew that he could not afford to lose any time to dallying. Worn out leather boots with mangled shoe laces glided across the stone streets beneath him as he pushed quickly in between any passerby's. He'd grown quite accustomed to people paying no real mind to him assuming him to be just another vagabond roaming aimlessly through the town. Though the sentiment wasn't entirely wrong, he had no real home as his work kept him often on the move, he did have a distinct purpose in his tracking this night. Tracking was exactly the right word for it as well, he was on the hunt and his prey was not far off. Over many years he had honed an innate ability to hunt down just about anyone and his most talented gift was tracking by smell and her trail called to him like a siren on the rocky shores. Though she was very clever and often kept from being caught easily she made for an excellent chase indeed as he round corner after corner until he was hit with the distinct smell of honey and lilac blossoms. The sticky sweet but calming aroma that often permeated the air near her was giving him proof of her imminent appearance before him. Before he knew it he was catching the sight of her form skittering past him and into a dark alley away just ahead and he bounded forward just ever so slightly faster as not to lose her.
He had no real intent on actually catching her just yet; no this was an entirely different matter than usual. It had all started rather innocently if truth be told in the situation. One evening he'd been lingering around one of the old taverns in Hogsmeade with no real purpose that day when he'd spotted her come in the doorway. From his spot in a very back booth he couldn't make out any real features on her but she had a long tousled mess of brown curls that he found himself eyeing over his glass of liquor all evening. Wrapped around her was a long black velvet cape that made his fingers ache with longing to touch the crushed fabric beneath their tips and get a closer look at this woman who did not fit in here. The stool she sat perched upon was nearly half her height making her appear much too young to be in a place like this. A glint passed in his eyes as he heard the soft laughter like a woodland fairy echo against the rowdy shouts of the other patrons. It was enchanting and only kept his mind focused more on her though he chided himself to stop being so nosy about a random bar chit.
Hours passed and as he watched her mull over a glass of fire whiskey he began to find himself imagining just what she might be like. It was thrilling in a way to develop an entire back story on who she might be and what she may be like. Not much room for mystery was allotted in his job as he knew most peoples dirty secrets just from hunting them down, but this girl was different. She was an entirely vacant book with no ink on the pages just yet and he knew that he wanted to slowly path out the story himself. In his mind he imagined that she was quiet and mystical with a penchant for spoken words much more educated than he'd ever be able to comprehend. Every time a new patron would pass in the bar door her head would turn nervously as she wiggled slightly in her seat and under the pale chandelier lighting he could make out just enough of her features. Her nose had a soft curve and a slight button end and lips with a just as petite cupids bow. A smattering of light freckles rested across her cheeks and he could not refrain from mentally comparing her to a porcelain doll you'd see in a window shop. Much too young for a place like this at hours like this and more importantly much too young to be caught in his gaze he reasoned to himself. Anxious energy bounded off her in waves but as she made her way onto a second and third glass she began to settle more into herself and came to rest much more stoically in her high stool. No longer would she glance panicked at the doorway and register every strange man who entered the bar. He wearily had to admit to himself that he missed the glimpses of her countenance but knew that he would be seeing them again some time or another. Through his own inattention his own glass had gone warm long ago but he still held the cup between his fingers rolling it back and forth as if trying to keep himself still. Sweat caused it to slide around but his sturdy fingers never let it go and never let his eyes leave her.
Recalling the memory had been a major infraction and he lost focus of her trail once more and blinked to find her all but gone from his vision. Cursing heavily beneath his breath he tried to suppress his growing annoyance at this whole task. Slowing his gait and trying to zone in on his surroundings he found his nasal cavity wafting in a huge amount of pure stench of the streets over flowing gutters and unemptied trash bins. It was for lack of better wording a very seedy part of town that he had followed her into and he wondered very immensely why this little fox had ended up so far from home in a lecherous place such as this. As he crossed through another alley he caught the unmistakable scent once more and his footsteps again began to bound forward with intent knowing he was close to the source of the trail. Rounding another corner he skidded to a silent halt as he caught the sight of her poufy tangled brown curls passing through a shops threshold. Store was almost a too polite term for it though as the building looked far beyond worse for wear and as he crept upon a window decided the inside was not much better of a sight. The lights inside where not much brighter than the darkened evening streets and so he could not make out much except for the tiny figure and the larger older man beside her. Upon further inspection the man seemed very thin and rakish with age hanging well on his features, though definitely not a threat as she lingered close to him. A foreign sense of territorial jealousy seized upon the hunter and left him at unease not knowing how to handle such a feeling. He had no real stake or claim to this young woman who didn't even know of his existence frankly. Merely she was a strange obsession that he followed upon whenever they'd cross paths. Even now at this moment he had no real tangible idea as to why he couldn't stop hanging around her in the shadows.
It wasn't so much an issue of the creepiness of it all that perturbed him so as it came with the territory of how he made his living, no it was more so the crawling sensation as of late he had to introduce himself into her life. He'd awake certain nights thinking about those plush untamed curls he had spent so long staring at and have to banish the thoughts immediately but unsuccessfully. Reminding himself yet again to focus he noticed the peculiar old man handing his little fox a tin box of something which she rather quickly shoved into her jean pockets beneath her cloak. She always worse such muggle clothing under her formal wear and it vexed him so. A few evenings prior he had glimpsed her in a bookstore wearing a moss green jumper and jeans with many well worn holes in the legs. On anyone else it would have been a rather dowdy outfit but on her it fit so well on her soft curves that it left him with that unsettling sense once more. It was obvious she didn't come from much money unlike most of the students he would see out and about in the town and perhaps he felt a kinship to her in that respect; his family or lack there of never had much money at all. A beggar was the exact terms for him as a child.
As she left the sketchy shop in a shuffle hurriedly digging around her satchel she didn't notice him dodge behind the alleyway corner and hide until she'd passed ahead a safe enough distance. Starting his normal pace behind her he heard a clicking sound and then smelled the loveliest notes of tobacco and cloves floating in smoke from in front of her. Another mystery to add to the list as he had never before seen her smoking, but yet again there was always something new he found himself mentally jotting down. Often he noted though she was around others and during those moments she would barely have even a hair out of place. It was only during these moments of solitude where he would catch her gliding or sulking around with unbrushed messy hair and engaging in these bad habits you would never expect from such a gentle looking bird. During these moments it was almost like glimpsing an entirely different person. This one was the porcelain doll he had first seen in the bar that night. It was as though someone had once precariously dropped her and then tentatively glued her glass pieces back together as if nothing had ever gone wrong. That is unless you really looked close under a specific lighting and then you would notice the hairline fractures and the minuet spots of dried glue sticking to her smooth exterior. He found himself pondering if anyone else in her life had noticed the magnificent façade that she kept up daily. Truly it was a marvelous act he would applaud had him the chance and right timing. The strange feelings settled in his chest one more and he tried very physically to shake them off but to no avail. As he breathed in the beautiful scents coming from her he imagined an entire life for her once more; one that he had to stop from including himself in more often than not. Never had he found himself so enticed by another and it bothered him to his very core if he was being honest. Sure while out snatching for the ministry he would see a few pretty faces but none of them ever evolved into this sort of….obsession.
Lately the ministry had him spying on random threats as the background noise stammered on and on about a return of the dark lord. He couldn't be bothered much by either side as long as he got paid in the end but his one constant anymore was this beguiling woman and her unknown secrets. As she stole fervent looks around herself suspiciously he just barely slipped out of her view and felt a thrill run up his spine of almost being caught himself. Realizing he had to be a bit more careful he gave her more room behind herself but found himself aching for the sweet smoke to be envelope him a little closer. Before long they had almost come upon Hogwarts grounds and he knew that he wouldn't be seeing her for much longer. Walking tentatively to a tree by the Black Lake her legs seemed unsteady and in one fell swoop she fell bottom first to the ground with only a tiny huff. He wanted to chuckle to himself but held it in to refrain from any noise calling attention to his concealed form. Long gone was the glow in her cigarette but she still twirled the end in-between her fingertips and eyed the murky lake as if it held some important information she was seeking.
"Stupid Hermione, pure idiotic that was. How could you ever let yourself come to this?"
Her voice almost startled him proper as he'd never really clearly heard her talk. Out here there were no distractions and no need for hushed tones. Suddenly things started to seem almost too real, almost too private and it for once in his life gave him a sense that he shouldn't be spying on someone. Every indulgent and weary vowel echoed in his ear and the tingle crawled up his spine again but this time from the sheer joy of hearing her dainty voice. Looking up at the bright full moon that shone down upon her he felt that a woodland fairy was still such a fitting description of her beauty. He knew she wasn't exceptionally attractive in a conventional sense, but it was more so the sense of her physical form and the way she hung around these midnight stops like a wandering ghost so delicate to the touch. She was far above who he was in his life and far above anywhere he'd ever achieve. In the dousing white glow she had an aura so peculiar and lovely even a king would fall to his knees at her feet.
Suddenly he felt very self aware of his own form looking down at his torn plaid pants and stained ripped leather jacket two sizes too big for a perfectly snug fit. Someone such as her would never give this level of notice to him as he did to her. She was a pearl still hiding in the depths of the ocean just waiting to be plucked and he was but a rat scurrying around under the city streets. Anger driven bile rose in his throat as he very much so felt a small level of resentment for this strange woman though to no fault of her own. His throat clutched together to keep back the shaking of his fists at his side but within an instant the antagonism had flowed all but entirely from his body and he ignored his self pitying thoughts as he heard her cry out from her spot under the tree. Gut wrenching strangled cries bellowed from her shaking form and it took all his might to keep from darting straight over to her and making sure she was alright. Many times had he heard men and woman cry but never had it affected him like this. He almost hated the immense human response it brought up in him. Confused about all the emotions overtaking him he made a motion to turn and walk away right then and there but something diminutive in his chest tugged at him to stay and still make sure she made it back into the castle alright. Since when did he ever care if anyone else was okay? It all felt too strange to care so much and it made his stomach turn over on itself in a new found fear. Even if he could fathom how to handle such delicate feelings he'd never been good with others and often resented them all on this faulty principle alone. Keeping a distance was much easier for him; remaining devoid of pity and sympathy and indulging in a self centered way of living was how he liked it. Never had he thought about changing this, he was far too keen on keeping his life this way and no silly curly haired fairy was going to change it.
"The worst has yet to even come….my god how do you expect to handle yourself in a war if you can't even take this?"
The sorrow was dense and seething off every self loathing word as it left her chapped lips. She was muttering much more hopelessly to herself though and staring ever more concerning at that damned dark surface before her. Something in the look crawled under his skin and spoke volumes of something much deeper and all consuming. He feared if he'd been any closer that it would have swallowed him alive as well. Shedding only a few more hiccuped tears she stood back up on wobbly legs and adjusted her clothing back brushing off dirt and crushed grass blades before heading towards the castle. Upon seeing her finally slip back behind a heavy oak door in the distance he knew his presence was no longer urging him to stay and he disapperated with a crack back to the same bar where he'd first seen her. Settling into his same usual back corner he let go of a fatigued sigh he didn't even know he was still holding back.
"Why do I fear this little fox is going to be the death of me?"
The whisper was half a question and half a silent resignation to whatever fate he had doomed himself to nearly a year and a half ago in this very spot. Calling up a round he sunk down into his seat nestling the fire whiskey against his chest cradling it almost like a precious gift. Things were only starting to unravel and he knew he would not be prepared for this no matter how hard he tried.